Ginny Weasley's Absolutely NonReplying Diary
by Manic In Peace
Summary: This diary will be normal, she swears on the Harpies. Just...disregard the flowers. *This is the story previously known as 'the Ginny Diaries'*
1. Ice Cream and How Much It Hurts

**A/N: **Hello! This is the first chapter. It was originally about a hundred words long and kind of goofy. Now? It's about 887 words and still a little goofy. I hope you like it!

**August 28, 1995, 9:30am, Weasley Kitchen**

Hellooo? Anybody in there?

No? Good. That was a test. After first year, what kind of blank, paper-filled item can I trust?

The one without people in it, that's which.

Anyhow, I'm bored-er than hell. Who ever said hell was boring, anyhow? With all those insurance agents and evil dictator-y people chasing you around and dodging flames and whatnot, it can't be that boring, can it?

I digress. My original point was: I'm bored, and there's nothing to do, so I'm writing a stupid diary mom gave me before that whole 'There's a Psychopathic Maniac in My Journal' incident. It's pink. It has beaded flowers on the front. If Gred and Forge (or anyone for that matter) ever catch me writing in it, I might have to move to the Antarctic. Or wherever it is laughing stock-y people go.

Anyhow, I'm bored and the kitchen is too hot for lounging around in. Stupid Ginny, leave the kitchen.

Oh, Merlin, speak of the devil…..

**August 28, 1995, 12:30am, Flourish and Blott's back stacks**

Well, that went from very promising to almost deathly embarrassing in under three seconds. It must be some kind of record or something.

Anyhow, here's how the story went: Gred and Forge came into the kitchen, and I sat on this diary as damn fast as I could (10 points to Gryffindor, Ms. Weasley). Luckily, the twins didn't see it, so they just kept on talking at about a mile a minute.

"Ginny, we've got an awesome idea, come to Diagon Alley with us-"

"-we'll Side-Along you, it'll be great-"

"-Harry and Ron already said they would come-"

At this, my ears perked up. Gred must've noticed, because he grinned slyly and said "Harry will Side-Along with us, since he's crap at Flooing and Ron can do that."

I am now eternally grateful to him for not blathering about it.

So Harry Side-Along-ed with Gred, and I did with Forge, and we met up with Ron in Fortescue's. The twins immediately went to visit the shop, with the excuse "a jokester's work is never done" and told us they'd be right back, and put Ron (Ron, of all people!) in charge.

Right after, Ron and Harry left to look at gear in Quality Quidditch Supplies, telling me to get them a scoop of ice cream.

Prats. If they wanted Ice Cream, they'd get ice cream. And in the meantime, why not get myself a scoop, too?

I've always loved Florean Fortescue's. The glass counter probably has a thousand flavors, all colours of the rainbow, underneath it. One of which is Prune. I honestly don't know why they have prune ice cream. Perhaps for all the little old ladies out there. Either way, Ron hates it. He's never tried it, but the thought of an ice cream with an actual FRUIT in it frightens him.

Still looking down at the deep-purple vat of goo, I ordered two Prunes and a Cake Batter (it tastes exactly like cake batter, and I love it).

"Brothers ditch you, huh?"

I looked up "_Ditch _is a rather strong word, wouldn't you say?"

The cute guy behind the counter laughed "Sure. So, are they? Your brothers, I mean?"

"All except the black-haired one. That's my brother's friend."

He nodded "Yeah, that's Harry Potter, innit?"

_Oh, my,_ I thought_, here it comes…_

But it never came. Score two for Ice Cream Guy.

"So, I take it you're getting Prune for them as revenge?" he grinned, as metaphorical choirs of angels zipped gaily around his head "I could throw a few nasty-flavored Bertie-Botts on there, if you'd like…"

I might have been a bit thick, but it was than I realized what was going on.

Ice Cream guy was flirting with me.

_Awesome._

So I took advantage of this fact, as you'll find most fifteen-year-olds would, and it took a total of twenty-five minutes to get my ice cream when-

"GINNY! WHAT THE HELL!"

It was all three of my brothers (and Harry) back at the same time. What luck.

So, in their process of 'protecting' me, my brothers knocked me away from the counter and yelled at the poor scooper until their faces were blue and he was cowering behind his scooping-spoon. Meanwhile, Harry was just standing there, gaping a little, blanching a little.

Thankfully, a thin, middle-aged man walked down the stairs. He looked just important and officious enough to stop this madness.

This is how my brothers got _Florean Fortescue himself _to throw us out of his shop.

Out on the curb, I was so mad I couldn't talk. I'm pretty sure the twins noticed, but decided to be prats and pretend they didn't. Ron has his head so far up his own arse, I'm not even sure he knows there's a sun. Harry still looked a little green.

Well, then seemed like a perfect time to pull a Molly Weasley.

"You absolute PRATS! What in the WORLD made you think I would ever be HAPPY you did that? Don't answer that, either. I can't even- you're so- UGH!"

I gave each of them a knock over the head and scurried off to fume in the back stacks of Flourish and Blott's, where I am now.

And I didn't even get my Ice Cream.


	2. Brutally Stolen Spices

**A/N: **Woot! It's the second installment in GWANRD! (It'll catch on). I hope you enjoy! Read and Review, please!

**Disclaimer: **Jo's the queen of this sandbox; I just deign to mess around in it.

**August 28, 1995, 15:30pm, The Chambers of Ms. Ginevra Weasley (aka my room)**

We got home about an hour ago. After the 'My Brothers are Huge Prats' debacle, I am never speaking to them again, so we are back to the beginning:

I have nothing to do.

I could be a dear and write to Dean, but I'm not sure I will. He sent me that owl three weeks ago, it'd be weird to write back now. Scratch that.

I could do my holiday homework… tempting, but no.

I could sit in my room and pretend to be invisible…

Ding, Ding, Ding! I think we have a winner!

I wonder where Arnold is? I saw him this morning, and Pygmy Puffs can't move that fast can they?

Ugh, that'll be Hermione at the door. I'll just set this under the bed with my Quick-Quotes Quill. You'll want to hear this.

**Dialouge:**

"Hey, Ginny."

"What do you want?"

"Don't be rude, I just came to see how you were."

"I'm fine. I'm always fine."

"Your brothers were really rude in Diagon Alley. _I _would have been mortified."

"I'm sure _you _would've."

"Oh, don't be stupid, I know you were."

"So, what if I was?"

"So, nothing. I told Ron and Harry they were idiots. Fred and George, too."

"Thanks. Harry didn't do anything, though."

"Oh? He'd usually join in on this kind of thing. I wonder…"

"What do you wonder? What's that face all about?"

"What's that scratching noise?"

"Probably Arnold. Don't change the subject. What do you wonder?"

"Well… you can't tell _anyone _this, Ginny. Swear on the Holyhead Harpies. Swear on _Gwenog Jones' grave._"

"But…but…"

"No buts! Swear!"

"Fine. I _swear_."

"Well I…I…IthinkarryLIKESyou."

"_What?_"

"I. Think. Harry. Likes. You. I'm not sure he knows it yet, but I'm pretty sure he…_likes _you"

"Harry? As in, _Harry, _Harry? As in, you know…Harry?"

"No, I said _Gary, _sludge-for-brains. OF COURSE Harry, Harry."

"Well. No need to be _rude _about it."

"I just thought you should know."

"How does this pertain to the Incident at Fortescue's?"

"Oh. He's afraid, in what little, tiny part of his brain that knows the truth, that that's what your brothers will do to him when they find out."

"And how is this supposed to cheer me up?"

"I… I thought you liked…"

"I did. But now I'm dating Dean. I can't just dump him for Mood-Swing Harry, who may or may not kind of, sort of like me in some tiny, insignificant portion of his brain."

"Well, that's all I have to say here. But, remember- I just want the two of you _happy._"

"That was weird. _Quick Quotes Quill, off-_

Wow. Um… I'm gonna write to Dean now.

**August 28, 1995, 23:00pm, Approaching our eight straight hour in Ginny's room.**

You do not regret denying dinner five hours ago.

You do not regret denying dinner five hours ago.

You do not regret denying dinner five hours ago.

You do not regret denying dinner five hours ago.

You do not regret denying dinner five hours ago.

You do not…

Oh, what the hell. I seriously regret denying dinner five hours ago. That was perhaps the dumbest thing I've ever done.

_Stupid Ginny. Stupid Ginny. Stupid Ginny…_

WAIT! It's eleven o'clock, isn't it? Everyone was in bed by nine (the losers), so they're probably all asleep, right?

Time for Operation: Nick a Nutella Sandwich from the Kitchen Before Anyone Notices.

**August 28, 1995, 23:30. Back in Ginny's room.**

Oh. My. God.

_Ohmygod._

…

Okay. I'm breathing. That was…wow. All I can say is:

Harry has morning breath.

**August 29, 3:00am. Still in Ginny's room.**

Okay. I can't sleep until I write it down.

I went downstairs for my Nutella Sandwich. I guess I was making a lot of noise or something, because about fifteen minutes in, someone comes tromping down the stairs. Naturally, I thought it was my mother, so _naturally_ I ran and hid in the cupboard.

But apparently it was _not _my mother, and apparently the person it was saw me come in here. I could hear them plodding towards my cupboard, so I grabbed a baguette and prepared myself.

Because _really_! What else is a girl supposed to do?

The figure opened the door really slowly. Slowly enough that I had just enough time to bonk him on the head with my baguette.

"Sodding _hell_! What are you doing in the cabinet, Ginny?"

I recognized the voice immediately.

"Oh god, Harry, I'm sorry. It thought you were a Death Eater, come to brutally steal our spices. God. I'm sorry."

He looked up at me, his eyes bleary and hair much untidier than usual, and said "How can you steal spices brutally?"

With this, I had to sit on the floor and laugh. Quietly, of course. Only Harry would correct my ad-verbiage in a moment like this.

By now, he was laughing, too. There were the two of us, sitting on the floor, laughing like goons.

"You're odd" he said. His face was just a little too close to mine.

I smiled "Yeah, I've been told."

And then he kissed me. Just like that, he kissed me. No prequel, no '_Hey, heads up Ginny, I'm going to snog you, even if you do have a lovely boyfriend who lives in the same room as me for three quarters of the year, so how could I possibly not notice?'_

Okay, I guess I didn't expect that. Not after I ran off like I did.

Bloody hell, do you know what this means?

Hermione was right.


	3. The Freedom of Kitchens

**August 29, 1995, 7:20am. Ginny's room, the morning after.**

And here we find the wild Ginevra-mander, awakening from her month-long fit of slumber. She's rather aggressive, so we won't get close, but you can see from here how her hibernation has affected her plumage.

Just kidding, it's only been, what, four hours now?

I slept about one of those.

Stupid Potter.

I'm almost debating whether to go downstairs or not, but I know if I didn't, Mum might send up a search party.

That would actually be kind of fun. You know, search _party _and all.

Jesus.

Welcome to the degeneration of my mind.

**August 29, 1995, 7:40am. The Kitchen and sweet freedom.**

I'm almost worried. The morning has gone off without a hitch.

That, and there's also no-one in my house.

I don't know if I should call the Aurors or rejoice.

Oh well, might as well pour myself a bowl of cereal and the answer will come to me.

**August 29, 1995, 7:45. Still alone in the kitchen.**

I'm worried now. What if I've entered some alternate universe where no-one exists but me? OR if it's been like this the whole time and my entire family is a figment of my imagination?

Or they all went to Diagon Alley and left me because I'm a stupid, Harry-kissing slag.

I like the first two better.

**August 29, 1995, 7:59. No longer alone in the kitchen.**

Well, my answer came. In the form of Harry.

**Dialogue:**

"Hey, Ginny. What's that you're writing in?"

"Oh, this? Nothing."

"Oh. Okay."

"So. Do you know where everyone is?"

"Your mum and Hermione are in Diagon Alley, Fred and George are at the shop, Ron's out at the pitch and your dad's at work. I am sitting next to you telling you where everyone is."

"Gee, _thanks, _smartarse."

"Always a pleasure"

_Insert awkward silence_

"Ginny, could I talk to you about something?"

"Do you need my permission?"

"That's not what I meant, I just- Never mind. Last night? That was a mistake. You have a boyfriend, and I'm sorry."

"Yeah. It was a…uh…mistake for me, too."

"I'm…er…glad you feel that way."

"Yeah."

"Well. I better go back to Ron. He's probably already got himself stuck in the goalpost."

"'Bye. _Quick Sodding Quotes Quill bloody effing OFF-_

Back to my original statement: _Stupid Potter._


	4. Night Vision Goggles Mean I Love You

_**A/N: **__Weelll. It only took a Nutella Sandwich on a fishhook, a pen, an abandoned kitchen, and fuzzy socks to get me to update. Plus a bag of chips. Forgiveness?_

_**Reviewers who need answers or praise (on Chap3):**_

_You go girl: Thank you. It makes me giggle a little to write_

_Phire Wolf- I cannot for the life of me tell if that's a complement, as this Ginny, I modeled a little after myself. (Her colloquialisms, if anything, and mannerisms.) So I'll just smile and say Thanks._

_Splash and ILuvSeverusSnape- Thank you, and, by now, I have. Kind of. If you're reading this, I have._

**1 September 1995, 12:13am, Hogwarts Express, Cabin 47**

Hoggwarrttttss, Gloriouuusss Hooogggwaaarrttss! Worth waiting for 'till we're eighty-four, blah-blah-blah!

Today has been a wonderful day, even though I haven't written in a while. Good Things about today:

1) Hogwarts Express! Trolley-Cart Lady! (Note to self: Learn her name. Have been taking food from her for years, it's rather embarrassing not to know) Junk and Candy with good friends and bitter enemies!

2) Am reunited with Kev and Dyl! Immediate celebration and rejoicing!

3) I got my diary-notebook-memior-draft-thing a lunch sack cover, so now I can write in public places (e.g. anywhere not my bedroom or the second floor bathroom). So, good for you, creepy stalker-person reading my diary. Good. For. You.

4) Out of the Burrow! Yes! This means not having to come in contact with He-Who-Will-Not-Be-Named-In-Fear-Of-Castration-or-Likewise-Unappealing-Punishments (aka: HWWNBNIFOCLUP) and other irritating (yet, loveable) brothers!

**12:30, Still Hogwarts Express, Cabin 47**

Urg. I've forgotten the Bad Things:

1) Hogwarts Express. Shaking and Rattling cabin. Eurggh.

2) Nothing wrong with Kev and Dyl. They are amazing saint-like people with Chocolate Frogs.

3) Writing while shaking and rattling in the cabin does not make for a happy stomach

4)I have forgotten the tendencies of Irritating Brothers to bring their friends and be Irritating all over one's Train Cabin. Though, on second thought, Irritating Brother's Friends are not quite so Irritating as Irritating Brother. No-one is quite so Irritating as Irritating Brother.

**12:43, after transferring Cabins with Kev and Dyl**

I saw Dean, I guess. That was awkward. Must get opinions of K and D!

You guys there?

_Yeah. Kevin, in the HOUUUSSSEE!_

**I don't see why you insist on doing that. What's the problem Gin, why can't we just talk normally?**

Because! This is a matter of Tippy-Toppy Importance and What-Not! I saw Dean.

**Aaand?**

What?

**So… you saw your boyfriend. How is this any different than normal?**

_Oh, I get it. Did Dean… objectify you… like a bull, prostitute, or similar?_

No! A bull? What kind of nutter-slash-bestiophile-slash-masochist ogles a bull?

_Aha! Who said anything about ogling?_

I was paraphrasing 'objectify', you loon.

**Objectify is not a synonym of Ogle, Gin.**

Whatever!

**So I take it **_**that's **_**not it. What was it, then?**

Nothing. He was just…odd, that's all.

_Odd? Like, _odd_, odd? Ohhh. Or OOODDD. Is it that one? _

No. Just… odd

**Do you think he'll dump you?**

_Dyl!_

**What? I'm not a liar, I do not **_**lie! **_**It's an honest question. Will Dean dump you, Ginny?**

I don't know.

_You don't…! Ginny, this is a matter of the HEART! _

Does that change anything? I still don't know. Maybe even more so.

_Dyl, are you thinking what I'm thinking?_

**Recon? SPYING! OHH! I've got wonderful new glow-in-the-dark goggles for just this occasion!**

No! No recon! No spying! No Special-Occasion glow-in-the-dark Night Vision Goggles! None of it! I just… want to let this play out.

_Ginny? Do you…Do you _want _him to break up with you?_

What?! No! No way!

**Not even for the Boy-Who-Lived of your dreams?**

Are you both incontinent?! I…HARRY IS OFF-LIMITS! FOREVER!

**Pourquoi, mon cherie? Qu'est que il fait?**

Mon Chou, il NE FAIT PAS. Il est immobile. Il est…est…INSENSIBLE!!

**NON!**

OUI!

_I just missed that WHOLE thing._

**Basically she said he's unmoving and unfeeling. He doesn't DO anything. Boohoo, poor Gin.**

_NO!_

_Oui, _Kevin. Duh.

_Well. I got _that. _I still don't see why the two of you have to speak French when you're upset._

**Ten points to Gryffindor. And we speak it because it confuses YOU, oh murderer of all tender, friend-y moments.**

_Hey now! I asked some rough questions out there!_

You make it sound like battle, Kev. That just exposes you as the newbie you are.

_Oh, quit smirking. We'll be at Hogwarts in a mo._

**Well, aren't you suddenly…pragmatic**

_Shut up._


End file.
